


A Solid Break

by Sarisia (Rrrowr)



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Dubious Consent, Hand Jobs, Jealousy, M/M, No Lube, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, past Echizen/Tezuka implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-16
Updated: 2008-07-16
Packaged: 2018-10-15 06:26:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10551588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rrrowr/pseuds/Sarisia
Summary: Captaincy changes a man, like power corrupts, but not so much as it changes how that man is seen. Momoshiro is determined to show Kaidoh exactly how much he isn't like Tezuka.





	

Captaincy changed a man. At least, that's what Momoshiro thought. When before there had only been following orders and carrying them out to their fullest, suddenly, Kaidoh was stern and responsible, and instead of the harsh hisses of reprimand (though they were still present) Kaidoh's trademark was used now to bring the team to sharp attention before he made some comment on teamwork or on a certain player's skill.  
  
Kaidoh was no Inui, but he'd learned plenty from the other teen that had served as the manager for the team that had won Nationals. Kaidoh was no Oishi, either, but when one of the freshmen had stumbled during a lap, it had been him that bound the injury with gentle hands (while the poor boy recoiled in fear; afterward, Kaidoh had hissed a rebuke and sent him on his way).  
  
Most of all, Kaidoh was not Tezuka. A fact, which Momoshiro was sure Kaidoh forgot now and again – as he ordered laps and arranged the rankings and generally ran the Seigaku Tennis Club in as similar a manner as possible.  
  
A part of Momoshiro missed terribly the times when he could edge close to Kaidoh's shoulder, when his temper would narrow in on the one person who could take it all and dish it right back, and when he would say something that would piss Kaidoh off. Those times when he'd been the focus of Kaidoh's pure rage - they were over now.  
  
Every time Momoshiro saw Kaidoh – and especially, every time he saw Echizen make the same silken comments to Kaidoh that he used to make to Tezuka and saw Kaidoh's faintly flustered response – he realized that being captain was not all it was cracked up to be. He didn't know what Echizen was thinking - whether Kaidoh was becoming some replacement for Tezuka or not - but Kaidoh.... Momoshiro hoped Kaidoh realized that just because Kaidoh was Buchou now, it didn't mean he had to be Tezuka, too.  
  
-==-  
  
"What the hell, Kaidoh?" Momoshiro hissed sharply at Kaidoh, swooping up behind him like a vulture. "What was with you today?"  
  
It had been a rough day. Kaidoh knew full well it was because of his response to Echizen's behavior, which had been (right up until the moment practice started) designed to flay Kaidoh's nerves and see how far the new captain could be pushed.  
  
It hadn't taken much. Kaidoh was naturally on edge at all hours of the day, but Echizen had touched and teased and talked and made himself a knowledgeable pest that pressed his freshly uniformed body along Kaidoh's back and said: _"Buchou, I need you,"_ as he'd slid his fingers along the crack of Kaidoh's ass. In the end, Kaidoh had snapped at an unsuspecting first year for attitude and had punished unreasonably. Though he had felt guilt over the idea, it had been more kind than admitting how much he'd liked the idea of being overpowered so easily by Echizen.  
  
"Nothing," Kaidoh growled back at Momoshiro, mind still warm with the memories of Echizen's whispering. "Stop harping on me. It's the last thing I need right now."  
  
Especially when he already had whispers of second years and freshmen following him around already. How had Tezuka put up with it, he wondered, when it was all Kaidoh could do to keep from training himself to exhaustion just so he wouldn't trash the goddamned clubhouse?  
  
Momoshiro pointed harshly in the direction of the courts, beyond the clubhouse doors and past the straggling members of the club on their way home. "One hundred eighty laps, Kaidoh?" he demanded, glaring fiercely while Kaidoh started changing into his day clothes. "You know full well that's impossible. Not even Tezuka-buchou-"  
  
Kaidoh cut him off with the slam of his locker and a glare. "Momo!" And Momoshiro's face was dark and focused. Kaidoh gathered a moment of breath and looked away, startled by the flush of heat that welled in his chest at Momoshiro's look. "Just.... Stop."  
  
Sighing, Momoshiro turned.  
  
And for a moment, Kaidoh was relieved.  
  
Kaidoh's shoulder had only just sagged when Momoshiro whirled back around again, grabbing his shoulder and shoving him against the lockers.  
  
"No," Momoshiro barked. "No, I won't stop. And I want you to know that I've been watching you, so I know – I _know_ – what's been going on with you. With you and the team. With you and Echizen." He seemed to frown deeper at Kaidoh's glance up. "It's got to stop. You're not Tezuka, alright? And you don't have to be."  
  
Kaidoh scowled. "That's not my problem." And it wasn't, really. His problem was Echizen and his problem was _wanting_ and his problem was _power_ and not wanting to have it, but for others to have it on him. His problem _wasn't_ Tezuka and it never would be Tezuka because Tezuka had given him power and given him strength when everyone else had thought he wouldn't.  
  
Everyone had thought Echizen would surely become captain – and why not when Tezuka had been captain, too, since his second year? Kaidoh had been a surprise.  
  
(And Tezuka still further could not be Kaidoh's problem when it had been Tezuka that had warned Kaidoh in the first place about Echizen. _"He's a good tennis player and an inspiration to all of us. There's no doubt about that. But he's got attitude. Don't let him use it too often."_ )  
  
"Like hell it isn't," Momoshiro snapped, grabbing both of Kaidoh's upper arms. "You just need something to help you tell the difference."  
  
Something rose in Kaidoh – something like fear and something like anticipation. "Difference?"  
  
"Yeah," Momoshiro breathed and stepped close. "Cause this would never happen to Tezuka."  
  
Momoshiro kissed like an animal – all power and teeth and growling noises. His hand came right up under Kaidoh's jaw, pressing tightly (but not too) against his throat, forcing his head up and back, and even though Kaidoh's hand was wrapped around Momoshiro's wrist, he could not budge him. And though Kaidoh struggled and gasped for air when Momoshiro bit at his mouth and choked as Momoshiro kissed him (kissed him fully, kissed him in the manner he pleased, kissed him as if Kaidoh's own preference did not matter), Kaidoh was warming to the idea – to the chance being presented to him.  
  
_Overpower me,_ he was begging as he pushed his arm between his body and Momoshiro's and shoved ineffectually. It was just enough space for him to gather breath, for him to flick his gaze up at Momoshiro and look away.  
  
Echizen had taught him plenty in his short time as captain. ( _"I love it when you watch me and don't mean to. Avoiding me is the fastest way to get me interested, Kaidoh-buchou."_ )  
  
Momoshiro took the bait perfectly, grinning as he shoved back on Kaidoh's shoulders with one hand and grabbed Kaidoh's swelling prick in the other. Kaidoh's breath caught – a hiss strangled short, _"No. Sto- Ah, Momo,"_ – when Momoshiro moved his hand along him, stroking leisurely, stroking with a strong, dry grip that pulled at Kaidoh's skin and made everything rougher, more perfectly pained.  
  
Kaidoh's hands wrapped around Momoshiro's arm – as if to arrest that pumping hand – but Momoshiro's jerks just became shorter, harder, _worse_. He groaned and his knees buckled and Momoshiro's smile became just a bit feral.  
  
"That's it," he murmured, holding onto him as Kaidoh slowly slid to the floor. "I'm gonna make you come right here in the club house."  
  
"Idiot," Kaidoh hissed, eyes rolling shut, lower lip getting bitten into his mouth so that he wouldn't completely surrender (not yet). "Tezuka would have used the club house for its privacy like this, too."  
  
Kaidoh didn't know for sure whether that was true or not. He couldn't imagine Tezuka sneaking back to the club house at night to jerk off when he seemed to have plenty of privacy at home, but it wasn't entirely unlikely. But it was necessary to push Momoshiro – to threaten his method, to present to him something that would go further without actually saying it wasn't going to happen.  
  
"That's right," Momoshiro said and squeezed his hand around Kaidoh's arousal. "He's probably had his cum all over these lockers, to claim this place as captain." He grabbed the back of Kaidoh's jersey and jerked him over and onto his knees. Momoshiro folded over him in an instant. "Let's start with the floor."  
  
"Momo?" Kaidoh asked. "Wait, what are you-?" Momoshiro worked faster than Kaidoh had anticipated. His shorts were thrown toward the wall, and Kaidoh fell forward as soon as fingers started pushing inside him. "Ah-aaah, Momo- Stop. Please, don't do this."  
  
Kaidoh was just a bit proud of himself for making a show of escape, for scrambling forward on all fours, but letting Momoshiro drag him back by his hips and jam two fingers right back inside him. He might have screamed, but the only thing he was sure of was that his legs had spread to accommodate Momoshiro's body, that he had dropped onto his chest and was gasping against his arms, that his ass was angled high…  
  
That Momoshiro, when he finally pushed inside, did so without mercy, without waiting for Kaidoh's body to adjust to the sudden fullness, without waiting for Kaidoh's body to stretch around him.  
  
It hurt, and it was perfect.  
  
And Kaidoh hated that it was Momoshiro behind him, that it was Momoshiro that pulled ragged moans from him and thrust in for those sharp yelps. Kaidoh hated that he was hard because of this and that his body was sweating and hot and flushed with blood. He hated that he could not completely give into this wonderful, vividly powerful bout of fucking, no matter that his body could enjoy it (enjoy every bit of it because this was what he enjoyed, being overpowered and being pounded into and having a weight between his shoulder blades to keep him pinned).  
  
Even as Kaidoh arched back and met Momoshiro's hips with his own and muffled his cries into his elbow as he sent white streaks of cum across the concrete, he wanted someone else behind him, someone else to do this to him. Even though this was good (it was very, very good – good enough to have his thighs tremble as Momoshiro pulled him to standing, and good enough to have him quietly moan when, still hard, Momoshiro thrust back inside) it was not enough.  
  
Momoshiro, no matter how good he was at this, was still an equal.  
  
They stood on the same ground in age, in classes, and on the tennis courts.  
  
It was not the same as when Echizen purred some choice words into his ear ( _"Your mouth looks soft today, Kaidoh-buchou. Did you suck someone's cock last night?"_ ) and left him half-hard and craving for the rest of the day.  
  
Not the same.  
  
Not at all the same.  
  
But Momoshiro could still make him come five times in one night – across the floor, over the lockers, while sucking his cock in the shower, splayed over the bench, over Momoshiro while he was pressed into the wall. He could still drag the pleasure out of him -- effortlessly -- even when it became progressively more difficult and more painful. He could still leave Kaidoh wasted, shaking in the aftermath, and glad for the moment when he could no longer feel Momoshiro's touch.  
  
"Never would've happened to Tezuka," Momoshiro murmured to him before he left, looking thoughtful as he petted Kaidoh's cheek. "Never would've happened."  
  
After Momoshiro left, Kaidoh stayed where he was, conscious of the throbbing ache of his body and the film of sweat and a bone deep weariness. Quite ready to just sink into the concrete and sleep and sleep and sleep, he hardly looked up when he heard the door to the clubhouse open. His gaze did, however, slide upward at an arching, thoughtful hum.  
  
"You two were in here a long time," Echizen murmured, eyes large and bright in the evening light. "I almost didn't wait."  
  
Kaidoh wanted to say something – though he didn't know what. A denial, perhaps, of what had occurred, but Echizen seemed to already be aware. There was no use refuting, when Echizen would never believe him. His throat was too raw for the effort anyway. Kaidoh just looked down again.  
  
Echizen's sneakers came into view. They were small shoes. Echizen, in general, was smaller than Kaidoh... smaller hands, narrower shoulders, slimmer legs... but when he lifted Kaidoh's chin with his fingers, tilting his face so that they could see each other, Echizen seemed taller. He _felt_ taller, and god help him, Kaidoh's whole body twitched with interest – was rising to attention under Echizen's gaze.  
  
"Has he broken you already?" Echizen asked. "Buchou?"  
  
Kaidoh frowned. "Of course not," he replied, but he was tired. His voice strained with the effort to sound tough again. "It'll take more than that to break me."  
  
But Echizen's smile was full of pleasure. And his kiss was long and deep with his hands pushing Kaidoh's hair back and catching him at the scruff like a pet. This time, when Kaidoh came, he hadn't needed to be touched at all.


End file.
